Sell Your Soul to Me
by crayolamarkerss
Summary: Summary: Craig Tucker summons a demon. He enters a contract, being told that he can have any wish he wants granted for a small price. Unbeknownst to Craig Tucker, however, the more wishes the demon grants, the more he has to pay. Warnings: Gore, Death, Language, Self-Harm, Murder.


The boy stepped aside, the flames from the candlelight flickering in his eyes as he stared down at his handiwork: a hexagram, scrawled into the wooden floors by a knife, the deep carving filled with his own blood. Craig smiled.

"It's ironic," he said, his words echoing in the vast emptiness of the church. His pale green eyes skimmed over the remains of the chapel, taking notes of the shattered stained glass, the broken, scattered pews, and the rotting scaffolding beams. This was no sanctuary. This was no holy sanctity. He laughed, his dry rattle reverberating off the walls. This was _fucking hilarious._ A demonic ritual inside a church? Oh yes. This was the perfect location.

The church had laid abandoned for years, rumors circulating that ghosts and demons existed within its walls, after a dead body had been found in the basement. Though the cause of death was ruled accidental, the body had caused unease in the congregation. They had all left. _So much for faith,_ the boy thought. The church was no longer hallowed ground, and Craig intended to desecrate it further.

The preparations were nearly complete. The sigil was made, and the blood sacrifice was offered. The only thing left to do was the incantation. Craig glanced at his watch, noting the time—2:58 AM. Though everything was ready, the timing was essential. The book had been anal about that.

 _Beep beep beep._ Steady beeping filled the room. It was time. The Devil's Hour was upon him. Wasting no time, Craig spoke the Latin incantation, his voice booming as it travelled to every corner and recesses of the empty church. As he finished, the boy cut into his palm, watching as the blood dripped from his hand and onto the sigil. Then he waited.

The clock ticked by with nothing remarkable. Nothing seemed out of place, and nothing was out of the ordinary. Craig narrowed his eyes, turning to look at his discarded duffel bag. Had he said the incantation wrong? _No. Impossible._ It was done perfectly. Still, the boy walked over and picked up the faded red book from the bag, flipping through it as he scanned its contents. _I did everything right._ Craig chucked the book to the side. It was stupid. _This was stupid._ _Everything was stupid._ His left arm throbbed. _This is bullshit._ But then his thoughts turned towards himself. _I did something stupid._ He mentally chastised himself. He had wasted his entire weekend for this nonsense.

 _And what do I have to show for it?,_ he thought. _Nothing._ Absolutely nothing. The only "gifts" he had received was a fucked up left arm: a slashed forearm and a lacerated palm. This was pathetic. _He was pathetic._ Craig gritted his teeth and emitted a low hiss. His hand fucking stung, and his whole left arm was starting to feel numb. _I'm fucking stupid._

At the time, the thought of desecrating the church was funny. Defiling a "good" and "sacred place" with a demon summoning? A perverse ritual? _Fucking hilarious._ Stealing a forbidden book? _Nice._ Learning and memorizing a Latin incantation during mass? _Great._ Slicing up his forearm as a blood sacrifice? _Bloody fucking_ _done._ During the process, Craig had felt exhilarated. He was doing something he shouldn't, something he wasn't supposed to. It was _sinful,_ taboo, and it was intoxicating. All through the night he had felt a high, but after his recitation, 30 minutes had gone by with nothing. Craig felt like a tool.

All throughout the night, he had laughed, cackling at the thought of tainting a church. But who was laughing now? _Haha,_ he said to himself. The male kicked over a candle, and watched as it set the old, matted carpet on fire. If the whole place were to burn, then so be it. In fact, it was probably for the better. Craig didn't want to remember tonight. He didn't want to remember his failure nor his stupidity. It was humiliating. It was degrading. It was stupid.

" _Burn the whole place down!"_ Craig said, knocking over some more candles. He would set this place ablaze and burn everything, and with its destruction, hope that it would help blot out this awful memory from his mind.

"I'll wipe you from the map!" he said, determinedly. Having made the firm decision to watch the church burn from the safety of the fields, Craig turned to leave when the candlelight flickered. He blinked. Suddenly, a cold draft of wind blew right through him, and enveloped him in darkness.

-

Craig couldn't see. All the candles were extinguished, and along with it, the mini fire he had ignited. All of it was gone. Dead. Killed. The only light available to him was the dim blue light from his watch, and it offered him no visibility. 3:33 AM.

Craig groaned. The gust of wind had come from nowhere, and it had blown his little campfire out. _Guess I'll have to start again._ Craig reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter. What was important was for him to get his bag, make it outside, then set the church ablaze from the outside. He flicked his lighter, but there was no spark. Odd. _Work, you stupid thing, work!_ But it was pointless. The lighter wouldn't work.

"Damn thing." Just like the book, Craig tossed the lighter aside. He'd have to fumble around in the darkness if he were to leave, though luckily for him, he knew where the doors were located. But before he could take a step, a deafening _Crack!_ was heard, then ringing. A loud ringing filled his ears, and Craig fell to his knees. He pressed his hands firmly against his head to no avail. His head was going to split, and his ears were going to rupture. The only thing he could feel was pain, pain, pain, and then he smelt it. Sulfur.

The smell hit his nose, and Craig gagged. His eyes began to burn, and tears began to leak freely. The smell was overpowering, and it threatened to choke him as it coiled down his throat, filling his chest and lungs and expanding as if it were trying to possess him. Craig was burning. He was burning from the inside out. He heaved, trying to retch the smoke from within him but nothing came out. He had to leave. Everything was burning. He had to leave right now and escape or he'd die right then and there. Craig stumbled forward but then felt something on him. Eyes.

Craig turned around, and was greeted by two luminous orbs peering back at him. He couldn't speak. He was transfixed by those eyes. Bright yellow with tints of green swirling about them like smoke. They were glowing and unblinking. Craig's chest tightened, and he froze. He couldn't breathe. Those eyes, its pupils, they were made of fire. And they were burning into him, burning into his very soul. They could see right through him; every bad decision he had made and every bad thought he had had, they knew.

As the creature continued to stare at him, its slitted pupils reminded Craig of a time when he had found a snake in his backyard. But these eyes were unlike anything he had seen before. They were older, more ancient. These eyes radiated a ferocity, a bestial light flaring within them. This wasn't a creature that could be tamed.

The eyes blinked, and Craig found himself able to breathe and move again. He fell forwards and gasped, intaking a large breath of air. Beads of sweat coated his skin, and his heart was pounding in his ears. The ringing from earlier was fainter but he could still hear it, and the smell of sulfur lingered, still strong and potent. Craig glanced towards the doorway, wondering if he could try to make a run for it. But before he could think any further, a thought shot through his mind: I wouldn't make it. So Craig lifted his head as high as he could to stare at the creature.

 _I'm not scared!_ he tried to say, trying to stand up taller and straighter though his knees felt weak. _I'm not going down without a fight!_ , he tried to convey with readied fists and a steadied stance. Logically, there was no way in hell he'd win, but he had to try. Even if he couldn't land a hit, he'd throw the first punch. If anything, Craig Tucker was a fighter, and he'd give it his all. And then the figure moved.

All Craig heard was a snap. And then there was light again. Craig could see, but only just barely. When he tried to peer up at the creature, it was still shrouded in darkness. He could only see its eyes.

 _"Why have you summoned me?"_ a voice asked. Craig could only blink in surprise. Instead of a deafening roar, as he expected, it was a soft murmur. Craig's mind went blank. He didn't know what to think of or make of the situation. He hadn't thought he'd get this far in the ritual. Demons? He had done the ritual and had wanted to see something, sure, but he hadn't actually believed in the otherworldly. He didn't know how to answer, and he didn't know if he'd survive this ordeal.

 _"Why have you summoned me?"_ it asked again, a soft hiss eliciting from its lips.

"I..." Craig licked his mouth, trying to make his voice sound as calm and steady as he could, faking the confidence he needed, "I want to make a contract." His eyes met the demon's; its eyes were iridescent. (Craig thought he saw more swirls of green in its eyes.).

 _"And what is it that you desire, Craig Tucker?"_

 _How did it know his name?_ Craig breathed in sharply, stomping down on his mini feeling of panic as he remembered he was speaking to a demon. _It probably knows all sorts of things, stupid._ Craig swallowed hard, then thought for a moment before inquiring his first question.

"Can ask for anything?"

 _"Anything."_

"Power? Money? Otherworldly knowledge?"

 _"All of those can be fulfilled."_

"Can I have powers? Like special abilities?"

 _"Yes, they can be granted."_

"What if," Craig said, pausing, "what if I wanted someone to die?" It was a dark question for sure, but the boy wanted to know what limitations there were to this deal.

 _"All that and more,"_ said the demon, its soft voice cooing. Its voice seemed to echo in Craig's head, and he could see more and more green swirls in its yellow eyes. But there was something else there too. _Red._ He could see flecks of red amongst the swirling mass of yellow and green, its eyes becoming even more lustrous.

 _"There are no limits to your wishes, Craig Tucker, you can have as many wishes as you so desire,"_ it said, _"for a price."_

"What," he said, unable to stop his voice from wavering, "what is the price?"

 _"Your soul."_

Its eyes loomed, and Craig saw a swath of color. Red, yellow, green, blue, orange. He saw them all. The creature continued to stare at him, seemingly waiting for an answer, and Craig began to sweat again.

 _His soul._ Craig hadn't seriously considered offering it, after all, he hadn't known demons existed until a few moments ago. The offer was tempting, but if demons existed, Hell must exist too. And he didn't want to suffer for eternity. Before he could speak, there was a flash of white. Craig saw what he thought might've been a smile from the demon. The demon's eyes had seen his uncertainty.

 _"Craig Tucker, if you do not wish to offer your soul, there is another form of payment."_

Craig glanced back at the creature. Its eyes were mostly yellow now. He didn't know if he could trust the monster at all, after all, it was a demon.

 _"A blood offering."_

Craig waited for an explanation.

 _"Feed me blood, and I shall grant a wish."_

Feeding the creature blood seemed far much easier than offering it his entire soul. Craig allowed himself to relax a little.

"So, what kind of blood do I have to feed you?"

 _"The payment depends on the wish,"_ it said. _"For simple wishes, a lick of blood."_ Its eyes seemed to glow brighter. _"Like a lick of yours."_

"A lick of mine? Are you going to drain me and kill me—"

 _"No. Just a small drink. Like that on your hand."_

Glowing eyes focused on his left hand, and Craig felt a sharp pain on his palm again. The whole ordeal with the arrival of the demon and the burning sulfur had made Craig forget about his actual injuries, but at the demon's mentioning, the cut had started to hurt again. He even felt something wet dripping from it.

"A small drink? How much is that?"

 _"Just a lap of the tongue."_

"And for bigger wishes?"

 _"More blood,"_ it said simply.

"Human or animal, does it matter?"

 _"Human works best_."

Craig sat in thought. Consorting with a demon wasn't ideal, especially since Hell was involved, but he could have his greatest desires fulfilled _without_ costing him his soul. His price to pay? Just a little bit of blood. And he didn't even have to give that much. A lick of blood? Fine. Seemed simple enough.

"Stay by my side and grant my every wish, then I shall feed you your blood."

Again, a flash of white. The demon was smiling at him. _"Craig Tucker, I agree to your terms."_

The creature came towards him, and from the candlelight, Craig could make out what seemed to be hooves and a wing. He took a step back unwittingly. Yellow eyes turned on him, and the creature's smile was gone.

 _"Perhaps this form is too garish?"_

There was another snap, and Craig was enveloped in darkness once again.

 _"Is this better, Craig Tucker?"_

The candlelight flickered on again, and a blonde lithe boy was staring up at him with a perfect grin. His eyes were a sea of green with a tint of yellow, and though the eyes looked more human, they still had a wild, primal look to them.

 _"I look like one of you now,"_ the boy said, chuckling. Craig saw messy blonde hair that stuck up in all directions, and a splash of freckles on pale skin. Then the eyes were on him again.

 _"Well, Craig Tucker? What do you say? Do you accept the deal?"_

Craig's eyes stared into green. The voice was soft as ever, a faint whisper, but there was something else in it. Something, Craig couldn't quite place. The blonde boy held out a hand, smiling at him as he waited patiently. He was asking for his hand.

 _"Seal the deal, Craig Tucker."_

Craig reached over and gave him his left hand. The demon firmly grasped it gently. It was warm. The blonde boy knelt on the ground and drank from the cut.

The deal had been sealed. 


End file.
